Anger
by Wedjatqi
Summary: Teyla leaves on a dangerous mission, can John let her go alone? Last chapter is up.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: Just playing in this world, wish I could stay...

Summary: Teyla leaves on a dangerous mission, can John let her go alone?

The haze spread across the mirror before him, shielding his reflection from him. John leant upon the cool basin and took a deep calming breath. The shower beat out a cloud of steam which was steadily filling the small washroom. He turned to the shower, turned off the water and returned to his still position; arms outstretched against the basin.

The steam had made the air in the small room heavy and he could feel the water droplets condensing against his bare skin. He looked up again at the obscured mirror. Reaching out he grabbed a towel and purposefully wiped the mirror clear. After slowly returning the towel to the rail he finally looked up at his reflection.

He had feared to see some change, some sign of the trauma his emotions had gone through. There was no sign other than a slight darkening under his eyes. He turned back to the unused shower. He knew he should get washed and dressed, but he felt too heavy for that. Inside there was chaos.He needed to get clean, move on with his duties, hoping that they would ward off the pain of loss. But, he couldn't quite make himself step into the shower, couldn't clean himself; he still smelt of her. The very thought made him look away from the clean bright surface of the shower. He might never see her again. How could he wash away the memories?

He felt empty. All emotion had been worn away and all he felt now was empty and alone. Alone in a city full of people he mused.  
He watched the face in the mirror. Surely he should look at least slightly different? Everything was different for him, shouldn't he look different? Wouldn't everybody know as soon as they saw him?

Some residual steam had condensed onto the mirror and he wiped it away with the edge of his hand. What was he going to do?  
He continued to stare. Last night he had stood in exactly the same place, looked at his reflection and he had had a moment of realisation, no, not realisation - of anger. She had left that morning. Left with her people on a mission that reeked of certain failure. A failure that would lead to everyone's death. She had left alone; her and her people not wanting any outsiders involved.

She had left, possibly forever and he had barely spoken to her. He had watched as everyone else had hugged her, the others had accepted her leaving and gave her good wishes and shed a few tears. Not, him though. He had stood tall and firm. Gave her a half smile, made some crap joke and wished her well. He had seen the look of surprise and the subtle flicker of hurt, before the controlled mask returned. She had broken eye contact from him and stepped to the open wormhole. She had looked over her shoulder to them all and he had felt her eyes fall last on him. He had given her a pathetically encouraging half smile. He swore at that he had seen wetness in the corner of her eye, but she had stepped through the gate before he registered it.

Returning to his duties he had ignored the feelings inside. Until he had stood here in the washroom yesterday evening and had looked at his face in the mirror. Then all the anger had surfaced. How could she have been so stupid! He had felt a rising fury so powerful that it had driven him right through that wormhole to the Athosian's basecamp. And he had yelled at her. Vented it all at her, ranted on the stupid strategies and plans. He called her people ignorant and she had lost it right back at him. He had never seen her lose it that way and it had only driven him on.

He breathed deepily, trying to push those memories aside. He was ashamed at his behaviour then. So arrogant and militaristic. But, he had realised. About halfway through a shouting match at her about refusing help had the truth hit him. He wasn't angry at the waste of potential life, he wasn't angry at the Wraith - all of that was important, but it was not what infuriated him so. No, he was angry that she didn't need him. That she could walk away and expect him to just be happy with her choice! Respect the loss of her life when he could have done something!

As this realisation shattered through his mind he relaised he had missed what she had been saying. She had been saying something about belief and trust between her and her people.

"And you don't have those same things with Atlantis? With us?" He had asked in a quieter voice, though the sharpness cut into her words.

"My people need me and I will not fail them when they ask for my help."

"You are failing your people if you refuse our help!" He jabbed the air between them with his finger forcefully with each word, his body bearly containing the fury still within him.

Renewed anger blaszoned in her eyes.  
"That is their decision, not mine. It has been decided, there is no point in going through this again! Why are you doing this?" She had sounded tired and baffled at him.

"I'm doing this because you are making a stupid decision. A decision that is-"

"That judgement is not yours to make, Colonel!" She had snapped. He had felt the raw anger flare from her. She had turned from him slightly, breathed in deeply, drawing in her anger and the blank face of leadership returned to her features. It had infuriated him further.

He had stepped towards her to force on the argument, when the entrance flap to the tent was lifted and Holling entered. John saw his eyes take in their aggressive body language and then had met John's.

"Is everything alright here, Teyla?" Holling asked will obvious concern.

"Yes, Holling it is fine. Colonel Sheppard was just expressing some...concerns over our mission. However, he has finished now-"

John had turned to face her again,  
"Oh, no I haven't!"

"Colonel Sheppard, we must all be up with the dawn tomorrow, it is best for all that you leave now." Holling's tone had a note of caution to it.

John had begun to argue with Holling, but Teyla had stepped between them.

"It is alright, Holling. You are right it is not good for the others to hear such harshly spoken words. The colonel and I are almost finished here. Good night."

Holling looked form one to the other and had finally turned and left. John had felt some of the anger leave him feeling suddenly so tired and empty. He knew he would not be able to change her mind, despite all his words he had known that. Then why was he being so stubborn?

She had walked to a table and was drinking some water, creating some space between them, hoping he would calm down. He watched her as she drank from the Athosian earthenware.

"Why won't you at least take some our weapons? A puddle jumper, something!"

She turned back towards him,  
"We have been through this. To take a jumper would mean we would need one of your people to fly it, since none of my people have the gene. And to take some of your weapons or technology would implicate your people if the Wraith find them."

"They already know we are involved with the Athosians. You're just making excuses. As a leader you should know that you must-"

"Only fight the battles you can win?" She interrupted him.

He stopped. The truth was just that. They were going up against a situation that they could not win. At least he knew now that she knew that and was not simply ignoring it. He dropped his gaze from hers, emotion was too near the surface now. He felt like he was in a tragedy.

She stepped up closer to him again.  
"I understand that this may seem...foolish to you, but my people made a promise to the Atherians and the Stroians. We must fight this battle alone."

He looked up into her eyes.  
"Even if it means the end of yourself and your people?" His voice was softer than he had wished. He felt the argument ending, knew that she had won. This in itself had been a battle he would never have won. Why did he come here then?

"Yes." She had answered honestly. She was always honest, which was one of the many things he admired about her. He should be too.

"At least let me come with you." He had said it without a thought, heard the pleading in his voice, but was not ashamed.

He saw the surprise and the understanding in her eyes and as she looked at him a sad look passed over her features.  
"That is not my decision to make, John." She answered quietly. "I would if I could."

Silence fell over them. There was nothing else to say. He had felt the emptiness and despair creep into his heart. He could say nothing else. He had run out of words and had lost the fight. Had lost more than that, he was going to lose her. Lose another person in his life, another one he loved. The despair flared up and threatened to engulf him and with it the anger again.

"So you are just going to go then? Just walk to your death? Well, I'm sorry, but I can't just accept that. You think I can just stand idly by and watch you walk off to your death and expect me to just be happy about it! To just go back to Atlantis and back to the way things were? - oh, what shame about Teyla, but nevermind." He knew he sounded pathetic, and saw her roll her eyes at the sarcasm in his voice. "Atlantis-"

"This is not about about Atlantis. This goes back before your people turned up here in this galaxy! Not everything has to be about Atlantis and your people. We managed fine before you came here, John!" A new vicousness had entered her voice, and it felt personnally directed towards him.

"Is this about me starting this war?"

"No! Not everything has to be about you!" She spat at him.

"Of course this is about me, its about you going and getting yourself killed! I don't want that, I want you to stay. Here, alive, back on Atlantis with me, not going off to get killed by thousands of Wraith, whilst I have to go back and write the new duty roster! If you are ever going to go to war against thousands of Wraith I'm going to be right beside you! Do you understand? I love you and I don't want you to go"  
He finally stopped, his breathing fast, his heart rate through the roof. They stood there starring at one another and his brain finally registered all that he had just confessed.

Back in the present John looked up at the mirror and studied his weary features, saw the droplets of cooling water drip down his face. Was he crying?

Where was she now? Was she already dead?

To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings: Implication of possible character death.  
Spoilers: Possibly a tiny one for The Hive.  
Disclaimers: Just playing in this world, wish I could stay.

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Heavy rain fell thickly from the sky obscuring the lush plains of the strange world. A world now littered with death and destruction.

Four massively muscular Wraith stalked along the tree line, hunting for any survivors. The massive deluge did not stop them. The thick rainforest vegetation ringing the plains provided good cover and the massive abundance of life-force here seemed to confuse the Wraith in their hunt. They kept on moving seeking out those who had dared to fight back so successfully.

The rain continued to flow down even through the dense canopy of the trees. Rivers of rapid water circled down grooves in the bark, fishing down to gather on Teyla's neck. The water deposited dirt and leaves against her skin, leaving a chilling dampness adding to her complete discomfort. She took a shaky breath in, feeling the cool damp air cling in her throat. The sound of the latest group of Wraith moved away and she risked a small movement to glance around the large tree behind which she was pressed. Behind her she could feel the frightened eyes of the other survivors.

She turned quietly, pressing her front against the moist bark. Her breath felt loud and shaky to her own ears so she took a moment to still her mind and breath. The moisture from the tree seeped into her top as she shifted slowly from the waist and peered around the tree. The fading shape of the last Wraith's back receded into the deluge of water outside the trees. Yet still she waited. She had to be sure before she allowed the others to relax properly for even a moment.

She searched deep into the trees and rain with her eyes, and into the deep cold place within her in which she sensed the Wraith. She could still feel them out there, so many it almost overwhelmed her. Pushing back the rising panic she focused on the immediate area around them and felt nothing. They were safe for a short while at least. She signalled to the others that the Wraith were gone and settled back down behind the tree.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember what it had felt like to be warm and safe. But, all she felt was cold and weak, so different from last night. Yesterday night she had blazoned with anger at someone she had respected and admired.

"John." His name slipped quietly from her lips unbidden. She wished he was here now alongside her, not to suffer with her, but so she could explain to him. There had been so much she had wanted to say…so much he had said. Now, she would never see him again. Tears dripped down her face. Shocked by the sudden wave of sorrow she focused on when she had last seen him.

He had said he loved her. An admission that had shocked her and shaken her strong will. What had cut even more was the similar look of surprise in his eyes. Had he really meant it? He had looked embarrassed and oddly frightened to Teyla.

"You should go, John," she had said, turning from him, forcing back the sting of tears. She felt ashamed at her words now. He had frightened her so completely. If he asked her to stay once more she might very well agree. She had to focus on her people and their obligations, not on her own heart. Her emotions didn't matter. As Ronan had said, "if it distracts you, ignore it". John Sheppard seemed to be able to distract her in a way no man had even done before.

He had turned from her as well and she felt the walls going up around him as they were around her. They were too alike: strong warriors, but scared of their hearts.  
"You're right, the others are probably wondering where I went to" he had said and quickly headed out the tent marching straight for the Stargate. Left alone in the tent she could not bear the thought of him leaving with those final words, those final emotions. She headed out after him and reached him as the puddle flared to life. Then he had turned to look at her.

Then the moment was finally upon them. He was leaving and they might never see one another again…ever. A deep sorrow had flown through her, stealing any words she had hoped to utter. Her hands shaking she reached up placed her hands on his shoulders and leant her head forward. He slowly pressed his warm forehead against hers. Tears had flowed freely from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks till she tasted salt on her lips. And there they had stayed for what had felt like an eternity yet never long enough.

She had felt a loss so profound that she almost sobbed with it. How could she walk away from him?  
He had drawn a deep slightly shaky breath in and let it out in a long sigh, resting his weight slightly more against her forehead. His body felt so strong and full of life beneath her hands as he breathed in. She trailed her hands up to cup his cheeks. Straightening away from him she had held is handsome sad face in her hands. His eyes had fallen shut, his lashes black against his cheeks in the fading light and she had brushed her lips against his.

Lightening slashed across the sky above her pulling her out of the memory. She brushed the tips of her chilled fingers over her lips. She could almost still taste him.  
Her body felt heavy and tired as the last of the adrenaline was fading from her system. The pain returned even sharper than before. Resting her head back against the steady strong tree she looked up at the small patch of sky through the canopy. Her body was becoming even heavier and she felt herself beginning to shake from the cold that was snaking deeper into her system. Breathing hurt, but she had to focus on staying alive and keeping the others alive.

She watched the small patch sky she could see through the canopy above. A small patch of freedom. The sky was darkening and so were her thoughts. The wound on her side was deep and she had been unable to stop the blood flow completely. How long had they been hiding in this thick damp place?

Looking around at the others, she saw faces of fear and defeat. They had seen so much horror, so many Wraith, how could they ever escape? Yesterday she had been safe in Atlantis, now she would give anything to see a puddle jumper appear overhead. But, no she had turned away any help and it left her with no hope.

Beside her she heard someone trying to stifle a sob. She attempted to reach out and offer some small touch of comfort, but her arms refused to move. Her body felt like a stone and she realised she could no longer feel her arms or legs. All she felt was a deep completely engulfing chill. She struggled to look up at the patch of sky again, but saw no puddle jumper, no last minute rescue. Everything was becoming darker and even colder around her.

"John."

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To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: Blood, suffering that sort of thing.

Disclaimers: I do not own this world, just playing in this fantastic world of make-believe.

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Flickers of light and shadow danced across her eyelids, drawing her attention to focus on the myriad of sounds around her. Chemical smells assaulted her nose and voices bounced around her head. For a few moments her consciousness surfaced, but weakened by the sensual assault she sank back down into the comfort of a deep empty sleep.

Across the busy infirmary John Sheppard watched her still frame willing her to move, to show some sign of regaining strength. He was meant to be on the way to a meeting, but he could not help but walk by the infirmary. He stood just back from the doorway, hoping to be unseen. He wanted desperately to go sit by her, stroke her hand and try anything to bring her out of her coma. He officially visited her several times a day, but in truth he stood in the hallway and checked on her perhaps a hundred times a day, he wasn't sure. Carson had settled her inert form on her right side so as not to lie on her wound allowing them to change the dressing regularly. Consequently she faced the door which meant he could stand in the hallway and still see her without anyone in the infirmary seeing him.

She was so pale and still, though not as death like as when he had found her.

In his mind he was back in the alien forest, reliving the horrible sequence once again. He had been stamping his way through the alien forest, calling her name, his calls mixing with those of the other search teams stretched around the forest. The early morning sun had been streaming through the canopy above him, causing a mist of steam to curl up from the damp chilled vegetation. Through the lush greenery he had seen a flash of a dark colour among some greenery at the base of a massive tree. Heading towards the out of place colour he had prayed once again that it was her and not another dead body. He would not allow himself to think she might already be dead. He would find her.

And he did. He had stepped around some particularly thick shrubbery and her hair came into view. She was lying on her side in the thick vegetation, her skin as white as the mist gathering around him. He dropped down to his knees beside her, all thoughts had fled him. He couldn't bear to reach out and touch her, what if she was dead? Trembling fingers pressed against her freezing throat and he waited. Time had seemed to slow to a crawl around him as he willed awareness into his cold fingertips. And then, he felt pressure under his fingers. A slow, weak pulse – but it was there.

"Carson!" He had screamed over his shoulder with abandon. His training had finally kicked back in and he began very gently brushing down her arms and legs, looking for injuries. Her clothes had been horribly chilled through and damp, but when his hand brushed her uppermost side he felt the tell-tale stickiness of blood. As he began to peal back her jacket, he had heard the rush of boots through the grasses behind him. Carson would fix her, he had to. They weren't too late. He couldn't fail her.

Carson had dropped down on Teyla's other side and felt her pulse, watching as John pulled her layered jacket away from her side. What John saw had made his throat constrict. A massive cut stretched from her left hip up through her side, disappearing up her ribcage. She had lost so much blood. From the looks of it she had attempted to tie up the wound, but the cut was so large and if she had had to run from the wraith… John cursed himself once again for not going with her or he should have stunned her and carried her through the stargate over his shoulder! Through his anger he had become aware that Carson had been talking to him, pushing him out of the way. John felt Ronon's strong hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from Teyla.

"Sheppard, let him work. Let him help her." Ronon's words had brought John back from his self-recriminations. He should focus on her, not his own regrets.

And for the past three days she had remained unmoving in the infirmary. Carson had pumped her body with blood, saline and antibiotics. All they could do was hope she had enough strength left to come back to them.

She looked so small to John, so vulnerable. He never thought he would think of Teyla that way and it frightened him in a way he had not experienced before. He had often said that Teyla was one of the strongest people he had ever met; surely she was strong enough to pull out of the coma? He realised he was starring at her face, willing her to wake. He wished he could give her his strength, and he realised he would give her anything. Then why was he standing in the hallway?

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The world came slowly to her. First flickers of bright coloured light across her eyes as her eyelids cracked open. The world around her was too loud and vibrant. She closed her eyes as a sharp familiar pain laced through her side. Pressing her face into the soft warm cushions beneath her cheek, she attempted to return to sleep, but the chaos around her could not be ignored. Then through the confusion and stress of it all, came a sudden gentle touch to her hair. A gentle caress, the touch was warm and comforting. She thought she heard a voice, somehow familiar and soothing. A deep masculine voice that tempted her to wake. Then another voice cut through the deep one asking her questions. She needed everything to stop being so loud and demanding, to just be left alone with the gentle touch stroking her hair and whispering how safe she was.

"Teyla!" Carson's voice snapped her awake suddenly. Her mind returned in complete clarity and she looked up through blurry eyes to see Carson and John looking down at her. Their faces expressed both concern and joy. They were talking to her, but she felt too sleepy to understand.

"At…lan…tis?" Her voice sounded hollow and felt dry in her throat.

"Aye, lass. You're safe on Atlantis. You gave us a right scare, Teyla. Do you need anything? Some water?" Carson's voice was kind and soothed her. She accepted a small cup of water from John and drew a little liquid in through the straw. She couldn't help a small gasp at her side as she moved.

"Be careful, that wound will take some time to heal completely. Take your time; your body has gone through a lot. If you need me press the button. Ok?" She nodded and uttered a quiet thanks to him as he stepped away. She felt what little strength she had drain away again. Resting down against the pillow she closed her eyes.

Beside her she heard a chair being drawn up. She managed to open her eyes enough to see John sitting beside her. He was studying her with a deep look of concern in his eyes. She tried what she hoped was a smile and saw his expression soften. Her eyes glided shut and she relaxed into a healing sleep. As the world faded around her she was sure she could feel a gentle caress against her cheek.

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To Be Continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Spoilers: Season 2 as Ronon is in it.

Warnings: Angst, fears etc. A bit emotional.

Disclaimers: I do not own any part of this world, or gain anything from playing in this world, except enjoyment.

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Ronon shifted his weight slightly as he raised the weapon up over his shoulder. Teyla watched the subtle tensing of muscles and knew his intent a split second before the weapon swung towards her. Throwing herself to the left she struck out one end of the staff to block his blow and struck out at his head with the other end. That is what she intended, however Ronon had seen her attack and countered. She saw the slight smile across his lips at her attempt. She spun around his intercept and struck at his legs. His massive weight leapt from the ground as if he were made of feathers instead of heavy muscle. Annoyance interfered with her follow up blow, so that he had time to send a strike to her right shoulder.

Teyla dipped her body back and away from the strike just in time, but not without a sharp shearing pain tearing through her side. Unable to keep herself upright under such pain she gasped as her knees hit the bare floor of the training area. Her vision blackened briefly and she once again cursed her wound. She drew a deep centring breath in, pushing the pain aside.

"Teyla?" Ronon's voice sounded concerned as it echoed around the empty room and her pain filled head.

"Do not concern yourself, you did not injury me. That was a good attack." Teyla stood carefully and was glad that the pain in her side had reduced down to a dull ache.

She turned to Ronon making eye contact, seeing the concern and pity in his eyes. Annoyance returned. She did not want pity from anyone, let alone him. Looking away from his kind eyes she picked up her fallen staff and swung it carefully around herself.

"You said your wound was fully healed." Ronon's tone implied he had no further intention in continuing to spar with her. Looking back at him she saw the hard set of his features, all pity had gone and a stony resolve had taken its place.

"It is. Carson would not have allowed me to resume exercise if it was not." She explained with a measured tone.

Ronon frowned at her.

"He said you could resume exercise, but maybe you should take your time-"

"Ronon! I do not need anyone telling me how to train. I know what is best for me. This was not the first time I have been injured. You of all people should appreciate the importance of maintaining strength and agility especially in the face of injury."

"But, you were severely injured-"

"Yes, but I have fully healed. Now, let us continue." She knew her voice sounded curt. It was a tone she had found herself using a lot lately. She just needed to get on with her training and get back in the field again, but everyone wanted to talk about the mission and her injury. She did not. What was past was past and she felt no reason to dwell on it. She just needed to get back into shape. Sparring with Ronon was a good challenging way to work on her weaknesses.

Ronon apparently had different ideas as he was leaving the training area, retrieving his bag and headed towards the door.

"Well, I have had enough for today. You keep training if you want." He said over his shoulder as he left through the door.

Teyla dropped the end of her staff loudly against the stone floor. She allowed a harsh sigh to pass her lips at his rude exit. She knew what he would do now. She could practically hear the conversation he was going to have with either Sheppard or Carson, perhaps both. She knew his intentions were good, but she needed help training not soft handling. Turning to pack up her gear she worked once again on keeping down the growing anger within her.

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The mess hall was relatively quiet around Teyla as she sat by herself munching slowly through a toasted sandwich. She had chosen a table overlooking the ocean. Looking out over the endless tidal blue water seemed to calm her.

"May I join you?" Doctor Weir's soft kind voice asked over her shoulder. Teyla turned with surprise and watched as the Atlantis leader sit down opposite her, unintentionally blocking her view of the ocean.

"Of course. How are you, Dr Weir?" She asked through a forced smile. She enjoyed the woman's company, but would rather have been left alone today.

"Oh, fine except I'm buried in paperwork as usual. How are you?"

The question was innocent enough, but Teyla heard the added concern and inquiry in her tone. She frowned slightly, occupying her time refilling some of the sandwich on her plate. Ronon had gone to Dr Weir! Or perhaps Carson went to her. She had expected John to be the one who would confront her. She had been worrying about it all afternoon. She had been carefully, and hopefully subtly, avoiding the Colonel. She told herself it was because he probably wanted to talk about her injury.

In her mind she had guessed how it all would play out. He would confront her; order her to take better care of herself. Use his authority as her commander first and then he would probably show some more friendly concern. During which they would both pretend to forget the kiss they had shared. She would have to share some facts of what she had gone through on the mission with him, he would have comforted her in some kind way, perhaps try to make her feel better with a joke to two. She would allow herself to show some weakness, to satisfy his worry. Then the tension between them would drop away, she would regain her strength, rejoin the team and everything would return to normal.

However, Dr Weir was here. Her confrontation with John would be put off for a little while longer. Though she feared it, she was disappointed it wasn't him. Realising she had not answered the Doctor; she continued to smile as best as she could at the leader.

"I am fine, Dr Weir. I have some work to do to regain my strength and stamina, but it will not take long. I should be ready for duty soon."

"I'm glad to hear it. I don't want you over doing it though. It may take some time to get back to your old self. It might be a good idea to speak to Dr. Heightmeyer."

Teyla gritted her teeth at the Doctor's tone, telling herself that she wasn't trying to be patronising. Teyla realised she had sat in almost this exact same place last year with Dr Heightmeyer. Were they questioning her sanity again? True she had been avoiding people lately, perhaps snapping a lot when people asked about her injury. But, they couldn't be questioning her sanity again, could they?

"Are you alright, Teyla?" Weir's voice was worried and finally too patronising for Teyla.

"I am fine. Why won't people see that? Did Ronon talk to you? Or Carson? I caught my wound just slightly whilst we were sparring, nothing more. Of course it is going to be hard work, I know that. I have no problem with what happened. The Wraith attacked; I was injured, yet survived. Believe me, it was not the first time! I do not need people to walk so softly around me. I am FINE!"

Weir was sitting right back in her chair, her eyes wide and leaning as far away from Teyla as possible. Teyla was aware that people around them had stopped talking. Weir glanced around the room before leaning across the table towards Teyla.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Teyla. And in answer to your question; no, neither Ronon nor Carson came to speak to me about you. I just haven't had a chance to catch up with you. I am glad to see that you are doing well."

Teyla lowered her eyes as she stood.

"Then, thank you for your concern, but I am tired of people treating me differently. I apologise if I took that annoyance out on you. Excuse me."

She turned away from Weir and her eyes feel on John Sheppard. He had been queuing up for food. He stood watching her with obvious concern. Ignoring the annoyingly worried expression on his face, she walked out of the mess hall at what she hoped was a measured pace.

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Teyla stalked down the corridors, heading straight for her quarters. She needed to be alone, before she really did shout at someone. She only passed a couple of people on her way, but both of them seemed to avoid any eye contact with her. This only helped to fuel her paranoia further. What were people saying about her now?

Finally at her quarters she slipped through the doors as quickly as possible, pulled off her jacket and threw it in the general direction of her bed. She then began pacing around her room, moving restlessly among her belongings. These were items that usually calmed her, connected her with home and family. But today they seemed to make her feel more alienated in this glorious city.

Behind her the door suddenly opened. She spun with outrage at whoever would just walk into her room uninvited. She stopped short of shouting something when she saw the look on John Sheppard's face. He marched into her room, his eyes blazing with fury. It reminded her of that night before she had left on the mission. Irritated at the sudden memory and the emotion that accompanied it, she readied herself for the argument he was about t o throw at her.

"The reason everyone is avoiding you and tip toeing around you, is that you have been behaving like a bloody tigress; stalking the hallways, glaring at everyone, snapping at anyone who you think might even remotely worry about your health. Hell, even Ronon has been hiding from you."

Teyla shook her head at the ridiculous statement.

"What?"

"Ever since you woke up properly in the infirmary, you've been so grumpy and sulky that no one wants to talk to you. You bit off Rodney's head the other day for asking when you would be back with the team. You just embarrassed Weir in front of the entire mess hall. You think everyone has a problem with you – they don't, it's all you. Now, sort it out!"

Teyla glared, mouth open at him.

"What!"

But, john had not finished. Stepping forward till he was less than a foot away he jabbed his finger at her.

"You made your decision to go on that mission, you were lucky to survive, now deal with it. You pushed away any help and you almost died because of that."

"I am not angry because of that. I do not regret my decision and I am not snapping at people." She spat out at him.

John pulled his head back with exaggeration, his eyebrows raised.

Awareness of her current behaviour began to sink in. She had just snapped at him, and she had frightened Rodney the other day. Surely this wasn't all in her mind. Had she really been treating people badly? She looked to the floor her mind scattering with jumbled thoughts.

"If it is not the mission, then…what's wrong, Teyla?" His tone was soft and totally unexpected. She looked up at his handsome face and saw the honest concern. "Tell me."

His voice was deep and kind to her ears. She had wanted his anger, not his…love? Turning from him she headed towards the small window that overlooked the wide ocean. He deserved more than what she was right now. He needed her strong and full of fire, not weak, injured and powerless. What good was she to Atlantis like this? What good was she to him?

Unbidden emotions surfaced as she gazed out at the freedom of the waters below. Could she tell him of her fears? Her weaknesses? Perhaps now was the time to tell him, before things got too complicated between them. Without turning to him she spoke her truth to him.

"Since I was a child I have had to be strong. My mother was taken when I was young and it was only my father and I. Over the years, many of those I cared for were taken by the Wraith. That was life. I dealt with it. Then my father was taken and I had to care for my people. They were my life, my family. I have always been strong. I fought to keep myself physically and mentally strong. It has been my way."

Behind her she heard him move closer, felt his clothes slightly brush hers as he stepped up beside her. Yet, she kept her eyes focused on the distant horizon.

"When I was lying there at the base of the tree, hiding from the Wraith, I knew there was no strength left in me. It had all gone and I had nothing else to give to save those around me. I was weak. I could not save myself, or my people." She turned her eyes to John's, knew there were tears running free. "Without my strength, what else is there for me to give?"

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To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

Spoilers: Vague mention to Conversion, but nothing major.

Warnings: Contains sexual situations.

Disclaimers: I do not own any part of this world, and I gain nothing but enjoyment from playing in this world.

(Note: For my American friends: Trousers are pants. Just in case there is any confusion!)

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Teyla woke slowly to the dawn light cascaded into her room, lifting her consciousness out of sleep. Gentle dreams scattered as she opened her eyes. She lay on her right side, the duvet thrown down to her hips and less than a foot away from her lay a sleeping John Sheppard. Memories from last night returned quickly. She had never felt as vulnerable as she had last night and he had stayed with her, made her see sense again. She had opened her inner most fears and spoken them out loud to him.

"_Without my strength, what else is there for me to give?"_

"Teyla, you are the strongest person I have ever met." He had answered her quickly and with a certainty that had helped. But, it was not enough.

"But, I wasn't strong enough was I?" Her words had been sad and heavy on her lips. A truth so blinding in its impact on her that it was as if her very soul cried out in protest. She was not strong enough.

John had reached out and in an uncharacteristic action he had taken her by the arms and turned her to face him. He had looked directly into her eyes, his gaze intense as he spoke.

"Teyla, it is not up to you to save your people by yourself. No one can do that. We fight one battle at a time and we do it as a _team_. Everyone has their limits, their weaknesses and their strengths. It is how we combine them as a team that allows us to defeat the odds. We support each other and we watch each other's backs." She heard the subtext to his statement – she had gone into battle without him, without support and she had suffered the consequences of that.

She had looked up into his eyes and nodded her agreement. He was right.

"I was wrong not to have asked for help."

The statement seemed innocent enough in its simplicity, but for Teyla it was a massive confession. She had let pride and tradition interfere with the safety of her people. As their leader she should have seen beyond their request. She should have at least had an Atlantis team on standby if they were needed. But, she had not. Instead she had pushed away any help. She had pushed him away.

"If we are going to stop the Wraith, we need to work together." He insisted again.

"You are a vital part of this team, but even if you could no longer fight alongside us, you would _always_ have a place here."

Teyla felt wetness in the corners of her eyes. Since she had decided to live away from her people she had felt as if she did not belong. But, she did have a place. She had a home with these people and she had value regardless of her ability to fight. She could make a difference with these people.

She sighed loudly, feeling the tensions from the past weeks ebb out of her body with the breath. Turning back to the window she studied the lowering sun and allowed herself to accept all that had happened over the past weeks. She had been pushed to the very limits of her abilities and had been so close to death that it still shook her to think of it. But, she was alive, she would regain her former strength and she still had much to give her people and the Atlantis expedition.

Beside her John stepped closer again and reached out to hold her upper arms again turning her back towards him.

"Teyla, I need you to promise me something." He voice was serious and had a tension to it that drew her attention. She turned back to him, searching his face for the source of the tension. He drew a breath and looked straight into her eyes.

"I need you to promise me you will _never_ do that again." His tone was almost aggressive in its intensity. "I mean it Teyla, you must promise me you will never go up against those kinds of odds without backup again. I can't go through that again. _Promise me_." His hands had clenched her arms tightly and she had felt the tension in his body. He needed to hear her promise.

"If it is in my power, I promise." She offered, knowing that life in this war against the Wraith held no absolutes. He studied her for many minutes, and she watched the changes of expression over his face. Finally he nodded.

"Okay. Just try not to get into any situation without back up, okay?"

She could not help a smile at his words. "Yes, John, I will try not to."

He smiled finally and his warm hands dropped from her arms. "Good. That's all I'm asking."

They smiled at each other in the fading light and Teyla felt a renewed sense of companionship between them. She had missed his company.

"And, you're okay now?" He asked tentatively.

"Yes, John. Thank you for your words and for listening to my fears." She felt a warm glow inside her at the blessing he was in her life.

"Anytime, Teyla. I am always here for you to talk to if you need me. You can rant or yell at me, anything you want. And I am sorry I haven't come to see you since you got out of the infirmary."

"I don't think I would have been good company." She chuckled. "But, I'm okay now. I just need to build up my strength and I will be back on the team in no time."

He nodded his agreement and his eyes seemed to sparkle to her in the dusk light. He reached out again and rubbed her upper arm. "Good."

Very instinct in her body told her that he wanted to hold her, wanted to comfort her, but after his confessed words of love he was hesitant to act. She realised she had never answered his confession. She had thought he had regretted his outburst at the time and she had not wanted to address the issue with him. Now, he didn't know how to behave with her. Not wanting such discomfort between them she stepped towards him and initiated the hug.

He had willingly wrapped his arms around her and had pressed her tightly against his chest. His warmth and masculine smell had engulfed her as she tucked her herself into his chest. His body was solid and muscular against her and she had felt his cheek rest against her hair. He had felt wonderful to hold and she had taken time to absorb the moment. He had begun to rock her slightly from side to side gently and his hand stroked her back in a sweeping comforting touch. The moment stretched out between them. He seemed to be in no hurry to let go of her and she had decided to enjoy it.

Finally he broke the silence between them, his voice deeper and resonant to her as she had her ear pressed against his chest.

"You know, I was able to borrow some movies off one of the Daedalus crew. Do you remember that story I told you about; "Star Wars"?" She nodded against him. "I could bring them over with some popcorn; it may help you to relax."

She had finally pulled back from him and looked up at his face.

"I would love that. I have missed your stories from Earth."

He smiled what she thought was the biggest smile she had ever seen from him.

"Great. You're gonna love these movies."

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They had spent last night watching three Star wars movies. She had no chairs in her room, so they had stretched out on her bed, backs propped up against the wall. She smiled as she remembered he had fallen asleep halfway through the second movie. She had been fascinated by the story though. He was right it had relaxed her and once the last movie had finished she had felt a renewed sense of hope about her future.

When the last movie had finished she had turned off the screen and the over head light. Pulling the duvet out from under him had taken some effort and she had laughed quietly at his sleepy mutterings about not wanting to go to school. Then pulling the warm duvet up over him she snuggled down to sleep beside him. And now here he was fast asleep beside her, in her bed.

He lay on his side towards her, the dawn light outlining him and gently highlighting the strong angles of his body and face. She studied his handsome features; the angle of his jaw, his dark eyelashes lying against his cheeks and the early morning stubble around his mouth and chin. He looked so peaceful as he slept. She ached to reach out and stroke his cheek, to feel the texture of his skin.

As if sensing her attention on him, his eyes slowly opened. His sleepy gaze drifted to meet hers and a soft smile moved his lips. She returned the smile and softly gazed back at him. His eyes held hers, his stare gentle and she thought she could feel his sense of pleasure echoing hers, as he lay relaxed beside her. They maintained steady eye contact, studying each other openly, but relaxed with sleep. His eyes drifted over her face and seemed to linger briefly on her lips. Teyla felt herself warming under his focus and glanced away shyly. She had only ever once before felt his attention so forcefully, but then he had been influenced by wraith DNA. Now, it was just John – lying here in her bed, so close.

Teyla looked back at his eyes to see him frowning slightly. She followed his gaze down to her waist. Her top had pulled up slightly revealing part of her newly healed scar. As she studied the raised white blemish on her body, she could almost feel the echoes of pain from inside again. Beneath her clothes the scar stretched from her breast to her hip, she had kept the area covered as it had healed and even now that it had, she had not wanted others to see it. She knew she should not be ashamed of the scar –it was a sign of her survival, not her failure and weakness. But, looking at it now, she felt embarrassed that John had seen it. About to move to pull the shirt back down over the mark she stopped when he reached out and gently touched his fingertips to the scar.

Teyla's breath caught as he lightly traced the tiny part of the scar. She felt his touch brush over the mark, feeling the width of it and then tracing it up to where it disappeared under the edge of her shirt. Teyla's breath quivered at his delicate caress. His fingers moved so lightly that she found herself focusing even more on the contact. Glancing up anxiously at his face she saw the frown was still there.

"It has healed fully. Dr Beckett says the scar should reduce with time, but I will always carry it." She uttered quietly.

"The cut was _so_ deep, Teyla." His voice was deep from sleep. "There was so much blood…" His voice shook as his eyes finally met hers again.

"I am fine now." She said reaching out touching his arm briefly. For a moment she was able to see the pain and fear in his eyes. She imagined how she would have felt finding him injured and near death.

John's eyes returned to the small patch of her skin and the white line through it. He traced the scar down to where it disappeared beneath the waistband of her trousers and then slowly back up.

"The cut was so big. Has it _all_ healed?" He asked softly, the worried frown still marring his forehead.

"Yes." She sensed the depth to the question. He was seeking to reassure himself that she was okay. Reaching down to where his fingers rested against the small patch of bare skin she drew the edge of her shirt up slightly. "You can look."

His eyes snapped up to hers in question, but his fingers had already brushed up the newly exposed portion of the scar. She offered a small reassuring smile. His eyes dropped back down to the scar and the frown disappeared from his handsome face.

Teyla closed her eyes and surrendered herself to his touch. This was about him finding closure to her near death. His fingers drifted up her side, feeling the breadth of the mark up to boundary of her shirt again. However, this time his hand slipped beneath the fabric, following the scar up her ribcage. The contrast of his rough callused fingertips, yet gentle touch against her skin seemed to cloud her mind of all thoughts. Her skin tingled where he touched it and her breathing sounded loud and shaky to her own ears. Embarrassed at her reaction to just the simple brush of his fingertips on her side, she turned her face into the pillow, her eyes still closed.

His fingertips slid slowly up over each of her ribs in turn until he reached the highest extent of the scar, which lay just outside the swell of her breast. There he paused and she felt the pad of one finger caressing the unmarked skin beyond the scar. He then flattened his hand fully along the side of her ribcage and then stroked his whole hand back down her side. The full contact of his warm hand sweeping down her side caused her to arch her back unconsciously towards him.

John's touch reached her waist again and he pulled his hand up until it was just his fingertips lightly dancing over her skin once again. The caress finally stopped at where the scar disappeared beneath the waistband of her trousers and there he paused. Teyla waited, silently giving him permission. He obviously understood as she felt the back of his fingers lightly slide across her stomach to the button of the waistband. He deftly flipped the button through the hole and his fingers drifted back up to the scar.

Teyla realised she was holding her breath as she felt his warm fingers slip under the waistband, tracing the scar line all the way up to its end at the highest point of her hip. She let the held breath out in a slow steady stream into the pillow, trying to calm her suddenly over heated body. His hand flattened again under the material of her trousers against her hip, his fingers lying down over the curve of where her hip met her rear. Then once again his hand stroked back to her waist, though this time she was sure he moved slower, or was her mind playing tricks on her?

His touch finally stopped back at where it had started at her waist and then the warmth of his hand disappeared from her skin completely. Teyla only just managed to stop herself from crying out at the loss of his caress. She kept her eyes closed as she worked to calm her breathing and her over sensitive skin. The bed moved slightly beside her as he shifted his weight and then she felt the soft pressure of his lips on her waist as they gently kissed the healed injury of her scar.

Completely overwhelmed by the affection of his action and the pressure of his lips against her sensitised skin she gasped. Her eyes flew open and she realised her hands were already in his hair. His lips brushed up along the scar again following the line his fingertips had earlier, till they reached her ribs and he kissed her skin again. The breath she drew in was shaky and she tightened her fingers in his hair. He pulled her shirt up to reveal the top of the scar and his lips descended to kiss the skin by her breast.

John shifted his weight again so that he pressed his body gently against hers, pushing her back against the bed. She rolled onto her back and he rested his weight down over her. Curves fitted against strong muscular lines as she shifted her legs around his cradling him against her.

He stretched up till their eyes were level and she could not help but gasp again at the passion she saw in his eyes. His gaze was intense, his pupils fully dilated as they met hers. And there he paused, his eyes lowered to her lips and she unconsciously licked moisture onto them. His gaze returned to hers and she realised he was waiting – he would not force this on her, she had to make the decision.

A hundred thoughts and fears entered her mind at that moment, would a relationship be possible between them on Atlantis? Would they still be able to work together? Would it last? So many fears, but all vanished as she felt his hands gently cup the sides of her face. She felt so loved by him and her own intense feelings for him could no longer be ignored. She remembered lying by that tree praying for a single opportunity to see him again, to tell him what he meant to her. Now, she had the opportunity again and she was not going to lose it to pride and anger this time. This time she would be strong enough.

Teyla breathed in deeply, feeling his strong muscular body against her own. Her hands were still entwined in his hair and she drew one down to stroke the side of his face. His eyes closed at her touch as he leaned his cheek into her palm and she stroked his cheekbone with her thumb.

"I do love you, John." She whispered to him.

He opened his eyes and she saw the passion in them had lessened slightly, but the look of affection and joy that had replaced it was all she needed to see. She pulled down gently till their lips met in a kiss full of love and passion.

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THE END

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